Bestiary · The Witcher 3: Wild Hunt Remastered

I thought the workers were harmless. I thought wrong. – Janne the Gimp, trapper. Workers are the most numerous, and thus the most frequently encountered, caste of endrega. Within the colony their duty lies in building nests and cocoons, acquiring food and caring for eggs and larvae. When threatened they will summon warriors to aid them, yet if forced to defend themselves they will – and do so surprisingly well.

Lazy, good-for-nothing men are sometimes called drones. That's an insult to endrega drones, who at least get off their arses to fight. – Evelynn Harker, herbalist Endrega males – called ‘drones' – are gluttonous creatures whose only aim in life is to eat, fight and reproduce. Yet when venturing outside their nests, these aggressive hunters attack any and every creature they come across.

The spider shall never lie down with the fly. – Ofieri proverb A similar saying could gain ground in our land concerning arachnomorphs and everything unable to flee them – meaning most every creature in the world. True, the tillers of the earth and fellers of trees need not fear them in their daily labors, for arachnomorphs, as distant, post-Conjunction cousins of common spiders, strongly prefer deep, dark caves and unfrequented sodden swamps. Anyone who does come across them, however, had best hope his conscience is clear and his worldly affairs are in order, for his life shall soon end, as not even the fastest man in the world can outrun them and only a few witchers can hope to slay them. Even worse are the more aggressive and dangerous kind known as arachnomorph colossi, which are capable of devouring an entire ox in seconds.

Something's destroyed our fields and hives. We think it's... the apiarian phantom. Holofernes Meiersdorf

If you ever find yourself facing a monster that breathes fire, strikes with a tail tipped with venomous spines, bites with sharp teeth and swipes with even sharper claws and tends to knock its prey to the ground with a sonic blast, then you are fighting a slyzard. With an arsenal like that, it comes as no surprise folk often mistake these draconids for dragons. Yet the experts (meaning witchers) know slyzards constitute an entirely separate species, much smaller than dragons and far less dangerous. With one exception: slyzard females in mating season, or, even worse, just after laying their eggs. When fighting such individuals, my suggestion is to get as far as possible from the danger as quickly as possible, preferably by running, at full tilt, without looking back.

During his stay in Toussaint, Geralt became involved with a curious case of gynodendromorphy – that is to say, a woman who had been turned into a tree. When one cut into this tree’s bark, it bled, and when the wind blew through its leaves, one could hear muffled sobs. Geralt investigated the matter and learned magic (or possibly a curse) was responsible for the transformation, and it surely had something to do with a certain sad episode from the woman’s past. The love of Daphne’s life, a knight errant, had gone to the witch of Lynx Crag and never returned, leaving her to wait for him forever, filled with sadness and longing.

Heard you have a problem - a monster you call a shrieker? Aye, prowls about, it does. Snatches cows and goats, mostly, but it won't scorn a man if it runs into one. – Conversation overhead at Crow's Perch

The old fool came home all black and blue, claiming kikimores had attacked him in the woods. Who does he take me for?! His mates worked him over because he’d cheated at gwent. If it’d been kikimores, he’d be dead. And I’d have peace at last. – Lavinia, wife of a Beauclair innkeeper Kikimores form colonies, making them similar to communal insects such as ants. A kikimore colony is ruled by a queen and organized into something of a social hierarchy. Kikimore workers take care of hunting food and bringing it back to the nest, while kikimore warriors defend the nest against attackers. A worker on its own can be easily killed by even a weak person or a child. It is rare indeed, however, to come across an isolated individual, for kikimore workers usual move in groups of a few to a dozen or so members. The only defense against a swarm of kikimores available to a normal person is to flee. And not even that is guaranteed to work.

Looked like a bruxa, but that was no bruxa… – fragment of a conversation between the ealdorman of Falkoane and a witcher. Alps are vampires that resemble bruxae in appearance. They are called phantoms by some, a name which fits well enough, for like phantoms they haunt and torment men. They usually take on the form of a woman, though they can also appear as animals. They are most often found prowling near villages. They attack at night and are most active when the moon is full. Alp saliva can make one fall asleep, and when applied to a sleeping man, can invoke horrible nightmares. Some suggest they are the cause of legends about men who go to sleep healthy and are found in the morning white as snow, not a drop of blood in their veins.

Thems in-walk troll house. Troll say, "Out mans!" But they wham-a-wham troll rocks. So troll wham, too! – Rock troll known as Wham-a-Wham

Wolves aren't as bad as they're made out to be. Werewolves, though – they're every bit as bad and worse. – Elsa Vilge, archer Werewolves are creatures with both men and wolves inside them. When in beastly form, they take the worst traits from each: the wolf's drive to kill and hunger for raw flesh and the man's cruel and calculating intelligence. A werewolf's condition comes about through a curse, and the transformations happen outside his conscious control. When he reverts to human form, he has no memory of his deeds – otherwise he would surely go mad and take his own life.

Folk say water hags are drowners' wives. If that be true, 'tain't no wonder why they're such ornery bitches. – Shemhel of Dregsdon Some tales mention water hags and swamp bints masquerading as lost old women to lure travelers back to the rickety shacks they build in the wetlands. In truth, only a blind man, or a sighted man blinded with drink, could mistake the rank sludge and rotting carrion of a water hag's den for a cozy cottage, and the hideous hag herself for an innocent grandmother. Their wrinkled, wart-covered bodies stand nearly two yards tall, with skin the color of a long-dead cadaver and stinking of muck and fish. Bony growths two spans long stick out from their backs, with hair like a tangle of seaweed and claws that would make a werewolf proud completing the picture.

Aye, half-eagle, half-tomcat, just like on the lord’s crest. ‘Cept this 'un was carryin’ me dead cow ‘stead of a scepter. – Griffin attack witness, name unknown Griffins were once only found high in the mountains, where they would hunt marmots and wild goats. When humans encroached on their lands, however, griffins soon discovered a new source of much more plentiful and easier-caught prey: cows, sheep and shepherds. Though still wary of main roads and towns (where folk with the means to hire a witcher are like to dwell), these half-eagle, half-wildcat creatures have gone from rarities to oft-encountered pests known throughout the Northern Realms. Especially hated are the subspecies known as royal griffins and archgriffins.

Sister crones, hand in hand, terrors of the sea and land, thus do go about, about: thrice to thine and thrice to mine, and thrice again, to make up nine. Macveth, Act 1, Scene 3 The isolated corners of our world harbor creatures older than humans, older than academies and mages, older even than elves and dwarves. The Crones of Crookback Bog are such creatures. No one knows their true names, nor what breed of monstrosity they in fact are. Common folk have given these three sisters the names Weavess, Brewess and Whispess, and call the threesome "The Ladies of the Wood" or simply "The Good Ladies." The Crones act as the true sovereigns of Velen, whose inhabitants they help survive through harsh times in return for unquestioning obedience. They wield powerful magic, but one different from that of mages. They draw power from water and earth and are bound to the land in which they live. The Crones can hear everything that happens in their woods, predict the future, twist the threads of human lives and bring blessings as well as curses. The Crones seem for all intents and purposes to be immortal. Magic elixirs keep them from aging and allow them to take the appearance of young women. These elixirs and their mystical ties to the swamps in which they live also give them supernatural strength and vitality.

Now finish your soup, or a berserker'll come and swallow ye whole. – Skellige mother scolding a child. Skellige legends speak of men known as berserkers who transform into bears when overwhelmed by battle rage. In doing so, they lose all self-awareness and are driven by a bloodlust which they must satiate in order to return to human form. Few believe these blood-curdling tales, however, not even in Skellige, where the inhabitants usually treat even the least probable legends with the utmost gravity. This indicates either that berserkers are in fact mere figments of mead-sodden imaginations, or else that they have learned to hide their abilities from the rest of the islanders.

Chorts are smaller than fiends, true. But still big enough to kill. – Agnes Thistle, herbalist from the Black Forest Chorts are the somewhat smaller kin of fiends and bumbakvetches. Yet any witcher who thinks their diminutive stature means they present no danger commits a grave error – the kind that can end his career permanently. These denizens of dark and ancient woods are some of the most dangerous monsters known to man.

It attacked us… Gods, I dunno what it were, but 'twere at least four spans high! -- Velen peasant woman

A knight errant might manage to kill a ghoul and a peasant with a pack of dogs can at times take down a bear. Yet let us make one thing clear: not even the finest steel armor ever forged or the collar bone of Saint Plegmund himself will give a mortal man any chance of surviving a fight against the creatures that dwell deep beneath the earth. – veteran Toussaint Ducal Guardsman, briefing new recruits

Micko and his band? Who're they? Four lads, drunkards and good-for-nothin's, all. They'd drained a few pints and decided they'd all plough the White Lady, maybe then she'd bugger off. – Conversation overheard in a field outside Novigrad

When at the water's edge, you gotta be quiet. First of all, so as not to scare the fish. Second – so you don't attract drowners. – Yanneck of Blaviken, fisherman A drowner resembles a corpse dredged from the bottom of a pond. It is sickly blue or green in color, with slime and sludge oozing out of every pore and the acrid stench of rot wafting off of it. That is why it is often thought drowners - along with their more dangerous cousins: vodniks, mucknixers and drowned dead – arise from the bodies of those who drown in shallow water: lost travelers falling into bogs, children who swim too far from the shore or, in the case of vodniks, inebriated peasants who stumble off narrow swamp trails.

The pitcher emitted a puff of glowing red smoke. The smoke pulsated, then gathered into an irregular sphere floating in front of the poet's head... –The First Longing, a Tale Fantastic in All Ways A djinn is a powerful air spirit, a condensation of the power of said element endowed with consciousness and character - the latter usually nasty. According to legend, djinns can grant even the most far-fetched wishes, though they do so begrudgingly. Unusually powerful mages can capture and tame these beings. A mage who succeeds in doing so can then draw energy from such a spirit, using it to cast spells without having to summon the Power from traditional sources. Only a handful have ever managed this feat, however, for djinns fight to avoid such a fate with stubborn determination. To imprison a djinn and bend it to one's will, one must first weaken it - and that is no easy task. Fighting djinns is extraordinarily difficult. They can fling off spells in an instant that the most accomplished human mages could never master with years of preparation. What's more, by manipulating the element of air they can summon gales, powerful storms, even hurricanes. Luckily, as magic beings they are vulnerable to silver - yet steel will do them no harm.

Really wanna see an angry witcher? Do you? – Conversation overheard on the streets of Novigrad

In memory of the noble knight Roderick, slain during a valiant struggle against a basilisk. Let's hope the beast choked on his bones. – Gravestone inscription, Vizima cemetery. Contrary to popular belief, basilisks cannot turn anything to stone with their gaze. That is small comfort, however, given that their acid, venom, claws and teeth provide them many other ways to kill.

The human mind is as wild and unexplored a place as any land far beyond the seas. It is inhabited by manifold dangers – fears, painful memories, traumas. These lurk on the edge of our consciousness, like predators waiting for a moment of weakness in which to reveal themselves… and destroy us. – Arturius Vigo, “The Essence of Spells and Illusions.” The painted world created in the mind of Iris von Everec was mainly populated by figures from her memories, but was also home to dangerous, predatory creatures: the embodiments of her fears. The most dangerous of these, the Ethereal, invoked her greatest fear – and wore the face of her husband. The Ethereal resembled Olgierd in appearance and also fought using a technique similar to his. A group of six such creatures lay in wait for Geralt, yet at first only one engaged him in battle. This one’s death awoke the next, which was more powerful than the first, and so it went to the end, with a stronger ethereal replacing a fallen weaker brother until all were defeated. Yet Geralt had to be careful, for the slightest amount of damage dealt to a being awaiting his turn would cause him to come alive and join his still-living comrade in the fight. In the end, the best tactic against these nightmarish beings proved to be a well-timed counterattack.

Vampire bites... and the strong stench of alcohol. – Geralt of Rivia

Somebody's doing some cooking... This... it's a human femur... a child's. – Geralt of Rivia

Had meself eight heifers, five of ‘em milchers. Then this cockatrice sprung up nearby, and now all's I got left's dried patties in an empty field. – Jethro, peasant from Pindal Foolish superstitions claim cockatrices, like basilisks, can kill with their gaze alone. That is utter nonsense, however, a cockatrice's gaze being no more dangerous than that of an angry goose. One should instead watch out for its sharp beak and long tail, which it can whip to murderous effect.

Ghouls creep and crawl at night Eating everything in sight In a snap they’d eat you, too Chop you up for a ghoulish stew! – Children’s rhyme Ghouls and graveirs are hard to describe. In part, they resemble humans - yet on the whole, they are the utter negation of all that is human. Though they have arms and legs like men, they walk on all fours like dogs or badgers. Though they have eerily familiar faces, one searches them in vain for any sign of sentiment, reason or even a spark of consciousness. They are driven by one thing and one thing only: an insatiable craving for human flesh.

It was horrifying to watch... that gentleman suddenly turned into a ghastly beast, with claws, and... tore those men to shreds with the precision of a master butcher… – a witness to Dettlaff's attacks Dettlaff is a higher vampire and one of the most terrifying creatures the world has ever known. Some vampires of his sort live among men easily and inconspicuously, sometimes even gaining the respect and admiration of their community. Yet even the most civilized vampire can be incredibly dangerous if provoked, and Dettlaff... Dettlaff was far from civilized. When in his two-legged form, Dettlaff strikes in surprising and unique ways, so one must be extremely alert and attentive. His razor-sharp claws, wielded with great strength and precision, are his chief weapons, yet he can also wield weapons of human devising with extraordinary skill. Like all higher vampires, Dettlaff can turn into fog and envelop opponents. When fighting a vampire in this form, one must watch out for magic puddles and attacks from the air. When wounded, Detlaff tends to assume his winged form, using these powerful appendages to stun his foes near effortlessly. One must remember higher vampires are immortal creatures and thus do not fear for their lives while fighting, meaning they take every risk. They are able to turn invisible and can regenerate strength during combat. All in all, they are supremely difficult foes, even for a witcher.

Take heed, gents, there's nekkers under this here bridge. If you all cross at once, without slowing or stopping, there's nothing to fear. But if your cart throws an axle and you get stuck out there... Well, close your eyes and pray to Melitele. – Kurt Hammerbach, city guardsman in Vengerberg A lone nekker is harmless. Five are dangerous. Ten can kill even a veteran monster slayer. Particularly troublesome are the larger, stronger individuals known as warriors, as well as the rare breed of nekkers known as phoocas.

Quite often a wraith is tied to an object, something it clung to during life, or a location, such as its place of death. In either case, we are dealing with the same causal agent: a strong emotional tie from which the wraith draws strength. – Inigo Swann, “Beyond the Natural World.” While wandering the von Everecs’ abandoned estate, Geralt came into contact with a woman’s wraith haunting the house. The restless spirit had mastery over the house’s furnishings and in particular over the paintings hanging from its walls. It moved freely between their canvasses, entering one and exiting through another. At first it tried to scare Geralt into giving up his search, then, when it was clear this strategy would not work, it attacked him directly. Geralt’s battle against the wraith proved very difficult, for it was fueled by rage and launched its attacks with heated aggression. Geralt was forced to move with lightning speed in order to parry its blows, without time to take a breath or launch an attack of his own. What’s more, the wraith had created a bond with the paintings around it and, until the witcher severed this tie, it would continually regain any lost strength. The key to victory over the Wraith from the Painting was to focus on parrying its blows and only attack sporadically, at exactly the right moments. Any attempt to attack in a flurry was always punished with a deadly counterattack.

How doth the little wild boar Improve his shining tusks, And rut them ‘gainst the forest floor, And on the trees’ rough husks! How cheerfully he seems to grin How neatly spreads his claws, And welcomes little lasses in, With gently smiling jaws! Louis of Charolle, mathematician, author and poet These woodland beasts are as “wild” – untamed, nasty and aggressive – as their name indicates. To this day, many peasants in outlying Kaedweni villages believe wild boars persist on a diet of young maids, though in truth they most often slate their hunger with roots and acorns. Do not think this vegetarian diet makes them harmless, however. In fact, these animals’ stout build and sharp teeth render them veritable fur-covered combat machines. Mother Nature has additionally equipped them with dual pairs of tusks - upper "pipes" and lower "sabres" - and this weaponry's sum effect is to make the beasts the terrors of the woods, a threat to all who venture or dwell there, human, humanoid and otherwise. Boars also have hard, club-like snouts, which some peasants call their “whistles,” though no boar has ever been heard to make such a noise. Instead, they emit a characteristic grunt, which sounds to some like the snoring of an extremely overweight man. Another peasant belief claims boars have extremely prickly natures, and, if offended, will vent their anger by knocking down fences and gobbling up potatoes. Though they sometimes live alone, boars usually appear in small groups of 3 to 5 specimens.

Out at sea, if you hear a beautiful woman singing, turn the ship around at once. You understand? Even if it means sailing straight back into a storm. – Arike of Hindarsfjall, advice given to his son before his first solo voyage Like skilled hunters setting out wooden ducks to lure in drakes, sirens and lamias lure men near - using their own bodies as decoys. They can transform to resemble beautiful human maidens, though with tails covered in silver scales instead of legs. Once a naive sailor gets within arm's reach of these beautiful creatures, their fair faces suddenly turn to fang-filled, fish-like maws, and lovely tails promising unknown delights become sharp, death dealing talons.

Our winter's cold and deep, frostbite eats your feet, snow falls down and hides the ground and ice trolls wake from sleep! – folk song heard in northern Kaedwen Climbing to the top of snow-covered peaks is never a safe endeavor. One can slip and fall into a ravine, be buried in an avalanche – or stumble across ice trolls. Unlike the rock trolls found at lower altitudes, these permafrost-dwelling monsters treat every man they encounter as a possible ingredient for a tasty meal.

An alghoul's basically a badarse ghoul – Yarpen Zigrin, dwarven warrior Alghouls differ from normal ghouls in size, strength, coloring and, most importantly, intelligence. Whereas ghouls and graveirs are primitive creatures unfit to plan even the simplest ambush, alghouls and their kindred (such as cemetaurs) are capable of forethought, and are thus much more dangerous.

They say a dog's a man's best friend… But in these foul times one best be wary, even of his friends. – Alfred Pankratz, beggar from Novigrad Some claim dogs are reflections of their masters. A well-treated pet repays his owner with loyalty and trust, whereas an ill-treated one repays this treatment in kind as well, meeting yells with barks and kicks with bites. Since there is an abundance of bad men, so, too, is there an abundance of bad dogs. Most dangerous of all are the vagrant mutts who have lost all respect for men and developed a taste for blood and carrion.

Melitele, Great Mother, protect us from evil, from unclean devils and foul demons, and most of all from the clutches of katakans and nekurats... – fragment of a prayer Katakans and their more dangerous kin, nekurats, are the embodiments of human fear. They hide in the shadows. They feed on blood. They resemble enormous bats – though with long fangs and even longer talons. And, as if that weren't terror enough, they can turn invisible, waiting unseen while dread of their unpreventable attack overwhelms their victim.

You ask why I have these big hands, my friend? Well, I’ll tell you my secret: exercise. - Big Bad Wolf The Big Bad Wolf who lived in the Land of a Thousand Fables was, like the other denizens of that strange sphere, created by Artorius Vigo based on a figure from folk tales. Once he served as a playmate to the duke’s daughters, acting out scenes with a certain red-hooded girl and her grandmother, but as the fable land slowly degenerated, so did he. Geralt and Syanna met the Big Bad Wolf while he was nursing a nasty hangover and was not eager to cooperate. Yet since our heroes needed a bean which the wolf had, they forced him to act out his tale. That tale ended as it always had: the Big Bad Wolf attacked the Hunter (played by Geralt), biting and clawing him fiercely while his own wounds healed almost instantaneously. Inevitably, however, the Big Bad Wolf was killed and his stomach cut open. This time, out came not a grandma and her granddaughter, but a magic bean.

We dug out a chamber. There was a beast sleeping inside. We fell over the props to collapse the ceiling, but it must not have buried the monster… – Bytomir of Velen

Then the kikimore princess summoned all her loyal sisters and off they went! Together they charged the enemy trying to harm their queen. – “The Kikimore Princess and the Mountain Giants” Cornelius Briggs (dwarven children’s fable, fragment) It is unknown how exactly it is kikimores communicate with each other. Autopsies are hampered by the high toxicity of their subjects. Scholars have established that kikimores do not seem to possess any detectable auricles. One amateur researcher, Count di Salvaress, put forth a theory in his treatise “A Microscope Among Monsters” suggesting kikimores have a highly developed sense of smell and use airborne particles undetectable to humans to transmit information. This theory has yet to be proved or disproved.

Here about the contract. Any idea what this monster is? Naye, but proper huge it must be. Slaughtered no less than a dozen wolves – Conversation overheard in Lindenvale

Never seen a vampire like that in my life. – Geralt of Rivia, witcher Protofleders are relatives of fleders which came from the world of the higher vampires to our own during the Conjunction of the Spheres. The members of this species are characterized by their considerable strength and agility as well as the strange glow they emit, a trait most likely tied to their otherworldly nature. Protofleders have never had significant contact with the outside world, having spent their entire time on our planet in the Unseen Elder’s cave, whose atmosphere is very similar to that of their home world.

Eyewitnesses to gruesome monster attacks always have a hard time describing the creature in question. The beasts move quickly and often attack at night, while the witnesses are terrified and primarily concerned with fleeing for their lives. As a result, witchers quite often have no inkling what creature they face until they find tracks or otherwise establish something for themselves. Such was the case with the Beast tormenting Beauclair. Geralt knew it was deadly, elusive and fiendishly clever. Everything else he heard was clearly the product of imaginations fed by fear of a dangerous predator.

I do not believe in ghosts - it is that simple. But my men say the house shakes at night, walls crumble, why, even the floors move about... – Kurt Dysart, Count of Anchor

The girl walked up to the edge of the pond. There, squatting amidst the fragrant lilies and broad lily-pads, she saw a most unusual sight: a small green frog with a golden crown perched on its warty head. Charmed by this curious little creature, the girl picked it up and gave it a kiss. Immediately the little frog transformed into a handsome prince. Overcome with gratitude, he asked the girl to be his wife. – folk tale, author unknown Timeless tales always carry within them a grain of truth. The legend of the frog prince is no exception, or at least that’s what the folk of Oxenfurt wished to believe when they found out a monstrous toad lurked in their city sewers. The women who hunted it in search of romance and a better life, however, found their tales had a most unhappy ending. The creature they encountered was no small, sweet frog but a bloodthirsty beast, who not only did not let them in for a kiss, but instead greedily devoured them and anything else that strayed into its slime-covered lair.

That's the kinda john we call an ‘armored arachas.' Hard and prickly on the outside, but get ‘im undressed and everything's soft and squishy. – Foxy Lisa, Maribor prostitute An arachas' only weakness is its soft, sensitive abdomen. Some arachasae hide this under hollow tree stumps, while other, "armored" varieties exist which have grown a thick carapace that covers all the more delicate parts of their bodies.

The best defense against spotted wights? Stay calm and leave them alone. – fragment of a treatise on spotted wights by Roderick Giligan. Spotted wights were a subspecies of wight which the witchers drove to extinction. They were larger than their unspotted kin and owed their names to their numerous blotches and effusions. Spotted wights would most often dwell in derelict cemeteries and empty wildernesses, yet at times took to living in abandoned human domiciles. There they would indulge in their greatest passion: creating brews from their own emissions. When not disturbed, spotted wights would not act aggressively. If threatened, however, they became very dangerous indeed. In the colder months or when faced with an unseasonable chill, they would slip into a state of lethargy, making them easy targets. Even during their active periods, it is said the witchers found a surefire way of besting them, based around careful casting of the Yrden Sign – or at least, so claims witcher lore…

Forktails… Bah! Fuckers' tails're more like cleavers. – Yavinn Buck, veteran of the Mahakaman Volunteer Regiment Forktails owe their quaint name to the long, sharp growths at the tip of their tails. A blow from this weapon can slice an oaken shield in two – along with the arm that was carrying it. Thus, though its name conjures images of cutlery, fighting a forktail is nothing like a dinner party and ends in death rather than dessert.

The deceased’s corpse was completely mutilated. All that remained of the nose was a hole clotted with blood. One eye socket had been chewed beyond all recognition. The mandible had been torn off. Seeing this, Sergeant Dovate vomited profusely and the administration of smelling salts was required. The investigation has been discontinued and the deed attributed to a supernatural being. – fragment of a Toussaint Ducal Guard report Fleders are classified as lesser vampires. Though weaker than the rest of their ilk in every aspect from the physiomagic to the physiognomic, they should not be underestimated – for they are very, very dangerous. Fleders cannot be mistaken for any other creature, with their wide, toothy jaws, flat, unpleasant faces and completely hairless, often warty bodies. These vampires mainly fight with their teeth and claws, flailing them blindly and not stopping even when their victim is already dead. Even a solitary fleder is strong enough to take down a trained soldier. Compared to other vampires, fleders display meager intelligence, seen most clearly in the mindless rage which causes them to try with all their might to attack and tear to shreds any weaker being.

We never hunt in these woods. Never. Even if it means the whole village starves. – Mulliver, ealdorman of Hoshberg in lower Aedirn Leshens dwell in dense, primeval woods. Fiercely territorial creatures, they hunt with stealth and cunning as their only companions. They use their inborn magic to control the plants and animals within their territory – and so when stalking them, half the battle is merely getting near enough to strike. Leshens old enough to earn the appellation "ancient" wield advanced skills and tactics that make them particularly dangerous.

The first fire elemental was created by Ransant Alvaro. Sadly, flames engulfed his entire laboratory, burning it - along with every other building on his block - to ash. – Tarvix Sandoval, "Origins of Magic Arcana" Fire is the most destructive of the elements, thus the aggressive lethality of the creature that embodies its essence should come as no surprise. Fire elementals are forged in complicated magic rituals for one purpose: destruction. And they pursue this with murderous determination.

Shun sin! Renounce foul deeds! And if evil threatens to overwhelm your will, ponder the fate of the Outskirts of Vizima! Remember the hideous barghests which scourged them and repent! – "Sermons for Feasts and Funerals," by the Reverend Yomen of Tretogor Folk of simple or superstitious minds claim committing particularly rotten acts will bring down the wrath of the gods in the form of “barghests,” phantom dogs which stalk the roads at night. Even if this were their origin, barghests saints and sinners alike would need fear barghests, for they attack both with equal ferocity. Witchers rarely believe in the gods, but they do accept that barghests exist and are always connected with some sequence of tragic events that happened in the past. Their explanation, however, holds that barghests result from a curse or a concentration of ill will.

I run back inside, hasp the doors, and then I hear it – someone whispering my name. Mikkjaaal, Mikkjaaal! Mikkjal, Eldberg lighthouse keeper

Course it reeks. Think they're called rotfiends because they smell like roses? – Vesemir, witcher of the Wolf School Rotfiends resemble decomposing human bodies that have been stripped of their skin. Their presence is given away by the overwhelming stench of the rot which gives them their name. Devourers are a particularly dangerous kind of rotfiend marked by an insatiable appetite for human flesh.

Your package? Your brother picked it up. You know, you two're damn near identical... Hey! Where you running off to?! – Hanne Kluger, postmaster Dopplers, also known as vexlings or changelings, are beings able to take on the form of any humanoid or animal they please. This transformation is no mere illusion able to be shattered with a simple spell, but an authentic and complete metamorphosis. This means no protective amulets or witcher medallions will signal a doppler's presence - they emanate the same aura as the being whose form they have assumed. This, combined with their incredible intellect and cunning, would make dopplers supreme assassins or thieves - had not nature endowed them with generous and timid spirits which make them avoid the shedding of blood at all costs.

I… I saw a shadow… Great wings, like a cloud passin' o'er the sky. Then I heard him scream. – Britt of Svorlag

It is often said the darkest recesses of caves play home to the Continent's most fearsome monsters against which there is little of hope of victory or escape. The lone solution, then, is to seal them off from the world with the hope that they shall forever remain buried. A certain priest of the Eternal Fire, however, learned that hope and prayer is sometimes not enough. The cavernous mine within Devil's Pit holds a specter whose very existence is believed to breed pestilence. With the threat of its release now imminent, the cleric seeks a new solution – the aid of a witcher.

Quite often a wraith is tied to an object, something it clung to during life, or a location, such as its place of death. In either case, we are dealing with the same causal agent: a strong emotional tie from which the wraith draws strength. – Inigo Swann, “Beyond the Natural World.” While wandering the von Everecs’ abandoned estate, Geralt came into contact with a woman’s wraith haunting the house. The restless spirit had mastery over the house’s furnishings and in particular over the paintings hanging from its walls. It moved freely between their canvasses, entering one and exiting through another. At first it tried to scare Geralt into giving up his search, then, when it was clear this strategy would not work, it attacked him directly. Geralt’s battle against the wraith proved very difficult, for it was fueled by rage and launched its attacks with heated aggression. Geralt was forced to move with lightning speed in order to parry its blows, without time to take a breath or launch an attack of his own. What’s more, the wraith had created a bond with the paintings around it and, until the witcher severed this tie, it would continually regain any lost strength. The key to victory over the Wraith from the Painting was to focus on parrying its blows and only attack sporadically, at exactly the right moments. Any attempt to attack in a flurry was always punished with a deadly counterattack.

Gladiator fights in massive arenas are a popular form of entertainment in Nilfgaard. Usually the fighters are slaves specially trained for this purpose, yet at times the arena masters pit humans against monsters. The shaelmaar Geralt had to fight in the tourney grounds was a present from the emperor to his relative, Duchess Anna Henrietta. It had been caught while young and prepared for its ultimate purpose by Nilfgaardian trainers. That does not mean it was tame, however – in fact, its wildness and inborn ferocity had not been dulled one whit. Like all creatures of its species, it was blind but could unerringly pinpoint its opponents’ location using echolocation. The shaelmaar had thick armor and near impenetrable skin. It could also roll into a ball and charge its opponents. Its underbelly, however, was relatively vulnerable and became exposed when its charge failed. In the end, though the fight was long and difficult, Geralt defeated the shaelmaar and, when the duchess called from the stands for him to finish the beast off, he duly dealt the final blow.

Sylvans are cruel, greedy and treacherous. Still, I prefer them to dh'oine. – Yaevinn, legendary Scoia'tael commander Sylvans and yakshas, a kindred species, are extremely rare woodland creatures whose appearance combines traits of goats and rotund men. These beings usually pose little danger, for they limit their contact with humans to playing harmless (though often bothersome) tricks and eating crops from their fields.

Blood on the ceiling, guts on the walls… Must be a garkain. – Yan of Lan Exeter, investigator and Captain of the City Watch Garkains, like fleders, belong to the class of particularly dangerous vampires whose strength exceeds even that of fiends. An encounter with one of their number almost always ends in death, which is why there are not many eye-witness accounts of them. From the city guard reports written up in Lan Exeter describing the attacks committed in that city in 1104 by three garkains (later killed by a certain Olivier of Gulet, witcher), it seems these horrible monsters do not content themselves with drinking the blood of their victims. The investigators concluded from the blood and guts strewn around the crime scenes that garkains tear their victims to shreds with great delight and muck about in their bloody entrails.

Finish all your business before you die. Bid your loved ones farewell. Write your will. Apologize to those you've wronged. Otherwise, you'll never truly leave this world. – Paule Vikar, peasant healer, advice to a dying man Clerics and scholars are forever debating whether spirits do in fact journey to another world after death, one where eternal joy or suffering awaits. Both groups agree, however, on what happens to spirits who, for one reason or another, remain in our world after their body breathes its last: they transform into wraiths. To hear their mournful howls, one can surmise this is not a fate to be envied.

So... That's to mean... our Zula's the wraith? – Bolko, ealdorman of Midcopse

”Look! Pixies!” ”We should go. Now.” ”Come on, what harm can cute little pixies do us?” – last words of two criminals who broke into the Land of a Thousand Fables, identities unknown Pixies might look like gentle, harmless creatures, yet in their case, the saying about appearances being deceiving fits all too perfectly. The pixies from the Land of a Thousand Fables were created to protect that magic place from intruders and ensure the ducal daughters, Sylvia Anna and Anna Henrietta, did not come to even the slightest harm. Thus whenever anyone else crossed the pixies’ path, it ended badly for them, for pixies are aggressive, war-like creatures, created to kill, defend and fight till they can fight no more.

If night ever catches you in the swamps, stay put and wait for dawn, even if it means standing waist-deep in water with leeches crawling down your trousers. Most important of all, if you see a light in the fog, never, and I mean never, go towards it. – Johannes Strudd, guide Fog is the traveler's foe. In the forest, it can make one lose one's way , at sea, it can send one sailing into the rocks. Yet such dangers are nothing compared to the monsters known as foglets which sometimes lurk within it. These creatures have powerful arms and claws like Zerrikanian kinjals, yet what makes them truly dangerous is their mastery of deception, beguilement and disorientation. Many times they need not attack at all, instead simply driving their prey to madness or into boggy marshlands, after which they wait patiently for it to drown in the muddy waters.

We told the prick something lurked in them woods, but he refused to believe it... – Louis Closster, woodcutter

Nightwraiths exude this immense sadness, this helpless wrath… I fear them, same as anyone. But most of all I feel sorry for them. – Aelline Altsparr, elven trobairitz. Compared to other creatures of the night – katakans, nekurats and werewolves, for example – nightwraiths (and their rarer cousins, duskwraiths) might not seem all that dangerous. After all, one might ask, how much harm could a pale, withered woman in a tattered dress do? The answer: quite a bit. Instead of finding this out the hard way, avoid crossing fields and meadows at night at all costs.

We've offended him, Sven. The Woodland Spirit seeks revenge. This here is him saying we've strayed from the old paths. –Harald of Fayrlund

The earth’s innards are home to mighty strange and fearsome beasts. Were they ever to decide to ramble up to the surface, we’d all be gutted the very first day o’ the invasion. – Ramus Vendenratz, Mahakam foreman. Shaelmaars spend most of their lives deep underground, having no contact with the world up above. At times, however, a shaelmaar will dig its way to the surface and devour any men within its reach. Some shaelmaars also burrow tunnels close to the surface, collapsing buildings and causing tremors in the process. Since shaelmaars are blind, they find their way by sensing vibrations and listening for sounds. Thus the best tactic when fighting such a monster is to hurl something heavy or noisy against a nearby boulder or wall. Then pray silently that the beast will roll towards the sound and knock itself out upon striking into the obstacle.

Some men have got good reason to fear their own shadows. – Svargmitt, An Skellig druid Monsters most commonly claim innocents as their victims: tardy merchants, reckless children and travelers who wander into dark woodlands out of misplaced curiosity. None of the above need fear hyms, however. These wraiths only latch onto particularly despicable individuals who have committed some unspeakable crime. To all others, they remain completely invisible. When they do show themselves to the one they torment, they appear as a tall, shadow-clad, humanoid silhouette with long, sharp claws.

Friend of mine used to say that with all these griffins and basilisks and whatnot, good old fashioned wolves weren't nothing to worry about… Then the damned beasts devoured half his flock. – Yngvar, shepherd Once upon a time wolves were the absolute rulers of the forest. Men used them to frighten children, while adults, too, trembled at the sound of their howling. Post-Conjunction monsters not only pushed wolves into the deepest wilds but also took over their place in human nightmares. Yet this does not mean the old predators ceased to be a danger. Wolves do not have a drop of magic within them, breathe no fire and spit no acid, but that in no way stops them from killing unwary travelers and hunters. Particularly dangerous are wargs, a nasty and ferocious subspecies of wolf, and the snow-white wolves which today can only be found in the wild highlands of the Skellige archipelago.

Careful, sir, a monster prowls the bog. Enter the mist and ye'll never see home again! – Leslav, peat digger

Saying a botchling's ugly is like saying shit's not particularly tasty: can't say it's a lie, but it doesn't exactly convey the whole truth, either. – Lambert, witcher of the Wolf School Botchlings are perhaps the most repulsive creatures a witcher will ever have the displeasure of meeting. Born of dead, unwanted babies discarded without a proper burial, their appearance is that of a partially-decayed fetus, their unformed flesh twisted with hate, fear and malice. These hideous creatures feed on the blood of pregnant women, driven by a mad hunger that most often leads to their victim's death.

If want us to break through this wall, we're gonna need twenty sappers, seven mules and a hundredweight of saltpeter. Or one golem. – Vilmir Brass, foreman at Mount Carbon Golems are mindless matter brought to life by a spell. They obey their creator's orders without question. Their boundless strength, ability to withstand pain, endless patience and the fact that they need not one jot of food or drink makes them the best servants or guards anyone could ask for. Once provoked, they will not tire of battle until they have either crushed their opponent or themselves crumbled into dust.

Seen a lot o' ugly critters in me life - morays, lampreys, blobfish... But never nothin' like this! – Bjorg, Kaer Trolde shipbuilder

Pussy cat, pussy cat, where have you been? I’ve been to Cintra to look at the queen Pussy cat, pussy cat, what did you there? Run, fool, that’s not a cat but a panther! – rare variant of a traditional folk rhyme Panthers are dangerous predators found in forests and other woodlands. They are quick, agile and, like all cats, diabolically cunning. In many less-than-thoroughly-urbanized areas, folk still believe panthers are the stranded souls of those who die in their sleep. Superstition thus holds anyone perishing in this way should be dragged to the nearest woods and left there without a burial. The panther-spirit of the deceased may then devour its own body, thereby passing on to the nether realms. This belief must be eradicated by any means, for it leads to epidemics of cholera and other contagious diseases born of rotting corpses. Besides, it is patently ridiculous, given panthers are not necrophages and will not consume carrion of any sort. They prefer more spry and lively prey, such as deer or even humans, provided they are not ill and do not stink too badly.

Baying at the heels of the Wild hunt are its Hounds, fierce beasts which follow it like dust clouds trailing after a comet. Hushed legends speak of them losing their way at times and descending from the night sky to earth, cold and death following in their wake. – Essi "Blackjack" Daven, trobairitz Born, or so some experts believe, of magic ice crystal, the Hounds of the Wild Hunt race alongside their spectral masters. Like ravenous, feral dogs they are capable only of mindlessly attacking whatever crosses their path.

One can be forgiven for thinking garkains harbor some kind of particular hatred for humans. After all, given what humans are like, it would be hard to blame them. – Agnes of Myrkvid, druid flaminica and scholar.

Wears a dirty dress, all rags, its skin flakin' off of its bones. And it howls… like it's sufferin'. –Odolan of White Orchard

Why bother with brick? In this climate, even a straw house's nice and cozy. – a little pig The three little pigs are perfect examples of a rather unfortunate phenomenon. Leave even a kind-hearted, warm, naively benign creature to fend for itself, and it won't remain so benign for long. The three little pigs from the Land of a Thousand Fables were left for years without Artorius Vigo's supervision. During this time they went completely feral, transforming into three wild boars which attacked anyone who dared approach their ruined home.

If you must travel through the woods, steer clear of any places where you can hear several different kinds of birds at once. That sound means you’re entering a bruxa’s territory and can kiss your life farewell. – anonymous piece of advice Fortunately for us all, bruxae are rare creatures. Most live far from population centers, for they care greatly for their own safety and make their lairs in places where they cannot be taken by surprise. Those who decide to live near men avoid crowds and emerge from their shelters only at night. When they do, one could almost mistake them for delayed travelers hurrying towards their night’s lodging, yet subtle details give them away: their close ties to birds, their piercing voices and the breathtaking speed of their movements. Bruxae are far swifter and stronger than men, but their greatest asset is their ability to turn invisible.

It's got scales, wings, claws… A dragon's a dragon! No point gabbin', just go kill it! – Vagn, village elder of Fyresdal

Once upon a time, there was a wicked witch. Every day after supper she’d drink a glass of freshly-squeezed corpse juice… – Karl Hrimm, writer of children’s fables Though evil witches are often considered creatures born of the overactive imaginations of fabulists and mythologists, cartoonish characters only a child would ever be frightened of, there are accounts of men who claim to have happened across one of these improbable beings. All these accounts agree that the witch not only did in fact eat men, but had mastered the cooking of humans to a fine art. They are said to be particularly fond of children’s liver fried in butter and served in a saffron sauce, balsamic vinegar-marinated fingers roasted to a golden crisp and, yes, even freshly-squeezed corpse juice. It should be noted here that all the above-mentioned witnesses who swore they saw such a witch were patients of the Ellander Institute for the Mentally Ill, thus the veracity of their testimony is highly debatable.

How to survive an encounter with an earth elemental? Simple. Run. Fast as you can. – Nino Murk, bounty hunter Earth elementals are made of mud, clay, sand and rock dust clumped together with water and brought alive with magic. While seemingly slow and ponderous, these creatures are nevertheless dangerous and should be avoided at all costs.

Men, the polite ones, at least, would call me a monster. A blood-drinking freak. – Emiel Regis, higher vampire Only a mutual thirst for blood links higher vampires to their distant and much more primitive cousins: ekimmaras, alps, katakans and the like. Higher vampires are, in fact, much more similar to humans than to those bat-like blood slurpers. They not only resemble us in appearance, but also share our intelligence and behavioral patterns. This means they do not squat in distant forests or hide in the shadows. On the contrary, they are particularly fond of cities, where they live out deceivingly normal lives. Even witchers are not capable of recognizing them at once, for their medallions remain perfectly motionless in the presence of higher vampires. Yet all these similarities should not blind us to an essential difference: unlike men, higher vampires are immortal. Those who have faced them in combat and survived can be counted on one hand.

Most monsters don't actually keep any treasure in their lairs. Harpies, though - they like shiny things. – Letho, Viper School witcher It is hard to say what is most repulsive about harpies and their cousins, the shishigas: their hideous appearance, the overwhelming stench of rot and bird excrement that clings to them or their bloodcurdling screech. Suffice it to say that even rats, who dwell happily among the rankest fecal matter and rotten waste, give their nests wide berth.

Thought it was just a pile of rotten meat – till it started to move! – Thibaut from Beauclair Scurvers are rotfiends’ larger cousins. The bodies of these hideous, vaguely humanoid creatures are covered with rotten scraps of flesh, under which lurk even more rotten muscles stretched around a strong, flexible skeleton. Scurvers, which feed on old, rotting corpses, prefer to make their hunting grounds in abandoned torture sites, forgotten graveyards and old battlefields. They are very aggressive and, though they feed on corpses, if they come across a living person they are likely to attack. Thus when wandering near any of the above-mentioned places, one must be especially cautious.

Many things fall from the sky other than rain and snow. Frogs, for example… And the Cloud Giant. – Sibald “Fang” Faalde, shepherd from Fox Hollow. The Cloud Giant is most likely a degenerated illusory being. He is an inhabitant of the castle in the sky in the Land of a Thousand Fables. This land was abandoned and left untended for years, during which time it began to rot, fester and degrade. The Cloud Giant was most likely meant to be a pleasant-natured strongman who would carry the duke’s young daughters on his shoulders and never grow tired. When he became degenerated and overgrown, however, he turned into a dangerous monster. After Jack stole his goose that laid golden eggs, the Cloud Giant decided in the future anyone who climbed onto his cloud would be tossed off, without a word of warning.

Man must riddly talk. But no tricksy. Or troll boom man head. – rock troll dwelling in a cave on Undvik If while hiking high in the mountains you come across a walking stone, do not think your eyes deceive you. Instead, draw your sword – for before you stands a rock troll. True, not every encounter with these creatures ends in a fight - while not particularly intelligent, trolls are capable of reason – but it is better to prepare for the worst. Otherwise, your hike might end not on the summit, but in their stew.

How about this... we take a big stake, sharpen its tip, jam it in the cyclops' eye – then sneak out of the cave disguised as sheep. How's that not a good idea? – Odess Thaka, traveler. Died tragically on Spikeroog Cyclopses can easily be recognized by the single eye located in the center of their foreheads. If for some reason that is not visible, other tell-tale signs are their enormous size, incredible strength and a seething hatred for all humans.

Most dangerous of all are the royal wyverns. Or, as they're called in some circles, the royal pains in the arse. – Albina Tottelkampf, lecturer in natural sciences at Aretuza Wyverns are often mistaken for dragons, and, though they are much smaller than their more famous kin and do not breathe fire, they are likewise extremely dangerous monsters. Especially feared are the so-called royal wyverns who, like their namesake monarchs, are exceptionally ornery and extremely deadly.

Among the fascinating flora and fauna of the duchy of Toussaint, one also encounters creatures of the decidedly unpleasant sort, such as giant centipedes. Not only do these beasts look hideous to the eye, they can do colossal damage to the flesh as well. I decidedly advise against them. – “A Visit to Toussaint,” one of the many guides authored by Peterin Safles Giant centipedes are enormous, insect-like monsters which can be found in many places in the world, but are particularly common in the lands (or more precisely, under the lands) of Toussaint. There they often dwell in close comity with shaelmaars, for a sort of monstrous symbiosis has developed between them: giant centipedes feed on the small creatures which eat Shaelmaar dung. Hard, chitinous armor covers nearly the entire body of a giant centipede. Sticking out from under this carapace are rows of hooked limbs. Giant centipedes are able to burrow into the ground with shocking speed, only to then appear back on the surface in another place. Once they select a target, they will circle it determinedly, trying to get close enough to deliver a blow. They attack primarily with their powerful mandibles, but they also possess glands allowing them to spew acid.

Patients seem to have hallucinations of a woman covered in scabs and boils, with rats scurrying about all around her. These ravings subsided after an administration of henbane and poppy extract." – Joachim von Gratz's notes, Vilmerius Hospital in Novigrad When plague ravages a region, a spirit will sometimes walk its lands, a ghost resembling an ill woman whose flesh rots off her bones and in whose wake crawls a cavalcade of rats. No one knows whether this spirit brings the pox with her or is merely drawn to it like a moth to a light. Yet it is certain that she delights in dealing pain and suffering, in hearing the howling and moaning of men.

It were huge. And those teeth, ugh! We barely escaped. Wonder if it killed the traders… Whoresons sure had it comin'. – Conversation overheard in Velen

Ate only the entrails. Fussy. – Geralt of Rivia

Ye or anyone ever heard of a beast settin' a wagon in the road, then waitin' in ambush? They're too ploughin' dumb for that, dammit! – Egil, warrior from Hindarsfjall

Well, since it seems this hair won’t be pulling up any knights in shining armor, might as well put it to some use. – the last words of Longlocks. Everyone knows love stories can have tragic endings, but few would think this also applies to princesses from fairy tales created to relive a set happy ending over and over again. Longlocks had the misfortune of becoming just such an unlikely tragic heroine. After the duke’s daughters grew up and the Land of a Thousand Fables went feral, Longlocks, whose prince never came and who suffered greatly from her loneliness, decided to hang herself by her own braid. After she died, her ghost stayed to haunt the castle in which she had awaited her suitor.

Bah, ain't nothing to fear. Ekimmaras, why, they ain't nothing more than overgrown bats. – Anonymous city guardsman's last words Like other vampires, ekimmaras are not, despite what village gossips might say, undead humans. They are instead post-Conjunction monsters who have no particular feelings about garlic, holy water or religious symbols. Unlike their portrayals in ballads and legends, they look nothing like handsome, pale aristocrats with charming eastern accents, though, like katakans or nekurats, they do bear a strong resemblance to overgrown bats. They also do not suck blood from the necks of virgins with a delicate, kiss-like bite – they tear them to shreds using long, sharp claws and then slurp the splattered blood off the ground.

The bruxa Geralt encountered and killed in self-defense at Corvo Bianco differed from other creatures of this sort. Firstly, it was more intelligent, capable even of articulating words in human language without much difficulty. What’s more, this bruxa was tied to the Beast, the mysterious murderer prowling Beauclair at the time. Fighting it presented Geralt with quite the challenge. Like other bruxae, this one possessed strength and speed far above that of any human, could turn invisible and could attack using a sonic wave. As is typical for all vampires, it sought to suck its victim’s blood. This meant the usual defense against those creatures, the Black Blood potion, was an effective weapon against it, as were the Moon Dust bomb and, naturally, the witcher’s trusty silver blade.

Barely nicked me, I'll be fine. – Last words of an unknown hunter Though all arachasae are highly venomous, this breed produces an especially strong toxin. A few drops are enough to kill a grown man – unless that man is a witcher, whose mutations will neutralize small amounts of this venom. Large quantities, however, will kill anything they touch, with mutations only prolonging an inevitable and painful death in such instances.

Despite what is commonly thought, peasants do not interrupt their labors at midday to get out of the sun – they do so to avoid noonwraiths. – Vlad Reymond, Peasants and Their Customs On particularly searing summer days, when the sun reaches its zenith, wraiths will at times appear, resembling sun-scorched women dressed in long, white robes. These are noonwraiths – the spirits of young women and girls who died violent deaths right before their weddings. Driven mad with pain or anger, they wander the fields searching for their unfaithful lovers or backstabbing rivals, though they will kill anyone who does not get out of their way in time. They are often held in this world by some object of intense emotional significance. That is why, if one ever finds a wedding ring or torn veil in the middle of a field, one should not pick it up, but instead back away as quickly as possible.

Long years of solitary study tend to make mages somewhat eccentric. As the years pass, laypeople begin to irritate them more and more: they are dense, unreliable, disobedient and determined not to understand the gravity of mages’ work. They display emotion when they should show discipline and self-mastery. No wonder mages have long considered the best companions to be artificial constructs they themselves bring to life and design to follow their rules and meet their needs. Professor Moreau was no exception in this regard. His golem was his dutiful servant and companion, in good times and bad. Moreau’s golem was also an excellent guardian: massive, unyielding and devilishly strong. All in all, he was a tough nut for a witcher to crack!

Scared of these endregas, are you? Just wait till you see the warriors. – Klaus Altman, forester Endless waves of endrega workers are enough to overcome most attackers, but when confronting more dangerous foes, endrega colonies unleash their larger, stronger members – the so-called warriors. This caste lives only to fight, and gets ample opportunity to do so while defending the colony's borders or conquering new territory.

It just me, or is that gargoyle ogling us? – Lara Estevann, burglar from Loc Muinne Gargoyles are stone statues brought to life by magic in order to guard mages' laboratories and lairs from intruders. Their appearance alone has scared off more than one prospective burglar. Those who do not take fright at the sight of these horned and winged monstrosities usually die shortly thereafter, torn to shreds by stony claws.

I'm not one to lie. Nor do I kill without reason. – Salma, succubus

There are more things in heaven and earth than are dreamt of in philosophy. - Bartolomeo Darez, after trying to contact creatures from another plane and landing in an insane asylum. The Caretaker served with the indifference of a golem, and proved as fierce in battle as it was diligent in its labors. It felt no pain – in fact, each blow it received seemed to give it strength, as did each blow it landed on Geralt with the spade it wielded as a weapon. What is more, the Caretaker was able to summon powerful spirits from the graves it had dug and could heal itself by absorbing them. The witcher had a hard time evading the devastating strikes of its weapon, and his only chance at wounding the creature came when it would stick its spade in the ground to draw on otherworldly energy in an attempt to petrify its foes with fright.

How doth the little wild boar Improve his shining tusks, And rut them ‘gainst the forest floor, And on the trees’ rough husks! How cheerfully he seems to grin How neatly spreads his claws, And welcomes little lasses in, With gently smiling jaws! Louis of Charolle, mathematician, author and poet These woodland beasts are as “wild” – untamed, nasty and aggressive – as their name indicates. To this day, many peasants in outlying Kaedweni villages believe wild boars persist on a diet of young maids, though in truth they most often slate their hunger with roots and acorns. Do not think this vegetarian diet makes them harmless, however. In fact, these animals’ stout build and sharp teeth render them veritable fur-covered combat machines. Mother Nature has additionally equipped them with dual pairs of tusks - upper "pipes" and lower "sabres" - and this weaponry's sum effect is to make the beasts the terrors of the woods, a threat to all who venture or dwell there, human, humanoid and otherwise. Boars also have hard, club-like snouts, which some peasants call their “whistles,” though no boar has ever been heard to make such a noise. Instead, they emit a characteristic grunt, which sounds to some like the snoring of an extremely overweight man. Another peasant belief claims boars have extremely prickly natures, and, if offended, will vent their anger by knocking down fences and gobbling up potatoes. Though they sometimes live alone, boars usually appear in small groups of 3 to 5 specimens.

Cremation, now that's one thing men could learn from gnomes. Burying bodies out in the fields, why, it's like laying out a welcome mat for monsters! Best case scenario, some ghouls will sniff them out, eat their fill and be on their ghoulish way. But if, gods forbid, a grave hag takes to feeding at your cemetery, you'll have no end of trouble." – Jacques de Villepin, Oxenfurt Academy Few monsters' names fit as well as the grave hags'. As one might guess, these creatures resemble aged, deformed women and loiter near graveyards and battlefields. Grave hags feed on human corpses and in particular on the rotten marrow which they slurp from human bones using their long, prehensile tongues. Once a hag has devoured all corpses within reach, she turns to killing men and burying them in the cemetery as she waits for them to decompose.

Not too long ago the areas around peasant hamlets were chock full of guardian spirits. Today it's nigh unto impossible to spot a brownie, bucca or lutin. And godlings, they are always the first to go. Such is the price we pay for civilization's forward march. – From the preface to "The World We Have Lost," by Professor Dorregaray Godlings (sometimes mistaken for lutin) are woodland creatures dwelling in burrows and moss-covered hollow stumps on the outskirts of human settlements. They are similar to children in behavior and appearance, and, like children, delight in mischief. Godlings are deeply rooted in their home territory and perform acts of care and guardianship to those dwelling near their burrows. They watch over people as well as animals, but, shy creatures by nature, they try to do so while remaining unseen. Godlings are drawn to joy and innocence, and so delight in the company of children and usually only show themselves to the young. These hard-working and clever creatures gladly perform small services for those in their care, asking only for respect and payment in the form of food or cast-off tools in return. They are easily offended by churlish, ungrateful or simply rude behavior. Godlings also treasure their peace and quiet. When the village a godling watches over becomes too populous or its inhabitants forget the old ways, it will abandon its burrow for good and walk off to destinations unknown.

According to legend, Golyat had once been a knight who violated his vows, for which he was punished by the Lady of the Lake. Transformed into a giant, he fled into the mountains and would only descend into the inhabited lowlands when hunger forced him to it. There’s no knowing how much truth lies in that legend, yet it is incontrovertible fact that this dangerous giant gobbled up shepherds and sheep alike, and was so widely feared, governesses used him to scare children into eating their vegetables. Though he came across as a wild, unthinking beast, Golyat used simple tools and any item could turn into a deadly weapon in his powerful hands. When fighting Geralt, Golyat wielded a millstone, making his every blow truly crushing. Luckily, Geralt already had some experience slaying giants and made quick work of Golyat as well, with the much appreciated help of three knights - Milton de Peyrac Peyran, Palmerin de Launfal and Guillaume de Launfal.

I regret to inform Your Grace that Your Grace's son fell while hunting a fiend. He died on the spot, along with his squire, his guide, the beaters, his peasant entourage and his hounds. – Kavin Jell, manager of the Villepin Estate near Vizima Fiends are walking mountains of muscle capped with horned, tooth-filled heads. Like their rarer cousins, bumbakvetches, they live in thick forests, swamps and bogs. When possible they avoid humans, but when not possible, they kill them, and without much difficulty.

Thin rachides, sparse after feathers... An archgriffin. – Geralt of Rivia

Ulfhedinn? What's that, some kind of fish? – Professor Artibus Joannes Rack, geographer, disappeared during a surveying expedition in Skellige Ulfhedinn are a breed of werewolf found mainly in Skellige. The harsh and barren conditions of the isles might explain why they primarily hunt men and are stronger than their Continental brethren. Older and particularly dangerous ulfhedinn are called vorefs. Only a few daring warriors in all of Skellige history have managed to defeat an ulfhedinn, and each of them is commemorated in ballads as a hero to this day.

Never have I seen such a creature! It was like a giant centipede, but white, utterly white! – account of Doctor Vittorius de la Vega after the first encounter with the Pale Widow This rare variety of giant centipede dwells in underground lairs and owes its name to its unusual, pale white coloring. Like the more common giant centipede, its body is covered in hard, chitinous armor, with numerous hooked limbs sticking out from underneath. Some scholars raise these creatures in laboratory conditions for the properties of their albumen, which makes an excellent base for the brewing of mutagenic potions.

Happened like this… A nasty rain caught me while I was out in the woods, so I thought to myself, “I’ll hide in some hollow, for gods’ forbid I get soaked through and catch a cold at my age. So I crawled into a cave. And there inside, something roars at me! Tore out of there so fast, wind had dried my coat by the time I got home. Velis Stail, herbalist

Again?! Good grief, woman, I'm spent… – Lester of Smallton to a succubus, a few days before taking a vow of celibacy Unlike other monsters, succubi and menads feel no desire to kill, do not crave human blood and usually do not, in fact, mean any harm at all. They are motivated by one thing and one thing only: an insatiable lust. They try in vain to slake this by engaging in sexual acts with any other humanoid species they encounter. While it must be admitted that their "victims" rarely put up much resistance, this does not mean succubi and menads do not present any danger: their never-ending advances, though pleasurable at first, have pushed more than one man to madness or even death.

A merchant once told me I reminded him of an erynia. Naturally, I immediately teleported him to one of their nests, so he could see for himself how ill-fitting a comparison it was. – Lytta Neyd, the sorceress also known as Coral Hard as it is to imagine, the erynias found in Skellige are even more repulsive - and dangerous - than harpies, their close relatives. Though well-rotten carrion is their food of choice, they will not turn up their noses at fresh meat, man flesh included.

Fled one time in my life. From the Ice Giant. And know what? I'm not a bit ashamed. – Rasmund Kvaalkje, Clan Tordarroch oarsman This powerful, primeval monster is quite possibly the last of its race. The Ice Giant resembles a man in many respects, but is blue as frost and taller than a tree. Though it seems capable of reason, all attempts to communicate with it to date have ended in the same way – in a quick and painful death.

Beann'shies howl and shriek, and if you hear their cry, you can know you’ll join the ranks of the dead that night. – beggar from Dun Dâre Old gossips claim beann'shies are the spirits of women stuck between life and death due to traumatic experiences. Their wails and howls are considered ill omens of imminent, inevitable death, though they are said not to attack the living themselves. Most often they appear in the form of pale, tear-streaked women with shriveled faces and wrinkled, corpse-like bodies.

I was gathering berries, as one does this time of year, when suddenly the trees shook and I saw this… this thing… – fragment of a story told by a woman returning from the woods. Spriggans are a subspecies of the monsters known as leshens. One is liable to come across them in inaccessible, unfrequented woodlands. They do not usually attack humans if unprovoked, but when irritated they can be quite fearsome, and, as they possess considerable strength, they are capable of doing great damage. Their appetite is such that they can devour more flesh than an army at a wedding. Each spriggan has mastery over plants and is inextricably tied to them. Thus if someone destroys greenery in its domain, it immediately comes to punish the disturber.

The spider shall never lie down with the fly. – Ofieri proverb A similar saying could gain ground in our land concerning arachnomorphs and everything unable to flee them – meaning most every creature in the world. True, the tillers of the earth and fellers of trees need not fear them in their daily labors, for arachnomorphs, as distant, post-Conjunction cousins of common spiders, strongly prefer deep, dark caves and unfrequented sodden swamps. Anyone who does come across them, however, had best hope his conscience is clear and his worldly affairs are in order, for his life shall soon end, as not even the fastest man in the world can outrun them and only a few witchers can hope to slay them. Even worse are the more aggressive and dangerous kind known as arachnomorph colossi, which are capable of devouring an entire ox in seconds.

I thought to myself - what's a hunk of ice doing in the middle of some lab? And then that hunk of ice got up and broke my legs. – Yannick Lovt, burglar An ice elemental is a mass of frozen water animated by magic. Deprived of consciousness or independent will, this elemental is boundlessly obedient to the orders of the mage who created it. Those orders usually contain but one syllable: kill.

You want a fine pair of boots, you say? Bring me the hide of a silver basilisk, and I’ll make you boots the whole world will envy. – Anatole Vizholy, shoemaker from Beauclair

Some peasants once offered me a king’s ransom to slay a slyzard. A damned hefty purse, chock full o’ gold… But I turned ‘em down. Coin’s no good if you’re dead. And a slyzard, that’s no fuckin’ forktail. – Zator, one of the Crinfrid Reavers Slyzards are often mistaken for wyverns or forktails. Yet make no mistake: slyzards are nasty, terribly dangerous beasts, and confusing them for wyverns will end very badly for the confuser. While a wyvern can tear apart and devour an untrained man in seconds, only a slyzard can first bake him to a crisp with a waft of fiery breath.

N'arache aen woed endicen [Let sleeping arachasae lie]. – Elven proverb Powerful pincers, a maw filled with razor-sharp teeth and venom glands packed with deadly toxins – these constitute the arachas' deadly arsenal. Since people and farm animals make up an important part of these creatures' diet, contracts on arachasae in turn constitute an important source of witcher coin.

They say the dead like quiet. I don’t know about the dead, but wights certainly do. – Heinrich Von Grott Though wights are ghastly and threatening in appearance, one should not approach them with sword drawn or attack them unprovoked. Left alone, they present no serious danger to anyone and are far more interested in mixing noxious brews in cauldrons than in fighting. This species mainly lives around ancient burial sites, though they have also been spotted near more recently-founded cemeteries and wherever mass graves can be found. Wights spend the winter months in a state of lethargy very similar to human sleep. They live strictly solitary lives -- in fact, it is practically unheard of for these creatures to appear in groups. Yet when they fear their territory is threatened (and it is enough for one to step foot in a wight’s territory for it to feel threatened), wights transform into dangerous foes and even abandon their solitary ways to summon other monsters to their aid.

An umbra is merely an unclean conscience, one tormented by guilt and unforgiven wrongs. A man wallows in sin with loose women and can’t sleep at night, then invents hokey about some umbra or phantom and blabbers about it at the tavern. – Sabine of Dal, mystic and priestess of the Prophet Lebioda.

Know that ditty about the bear "climbing the mountain, to see what he could see?" Biggest load of rubbish I've ever heard. When a bear climbs a mountain, it's not to see. It's to hunt. To kill. – Jahne Oldak, royal huntsman Bears are omnivores – meaning men find a place in their diet beside berries, roots and salmon. When they snack on humans, they most frequently partake of the meat of travelers unwittingly trespassing on their territory, or else that of hunters for whom besting such a creature is a lifelong ambition. There are several subspecies of bears – black bears, polar bears and cave bears – which differ from one another in coloring as well as in size and strength. All share one trait in common, however: a near-unmatched ability to kill.

Looks like a flower to me. A hideous, disgusting flower. – Blasco Tennerbe, last words Archespores look like gigantic, aesthetically unpleasing flowers with some of the traits of exceptionally cruel and bloodthirsty sundews. They are, however, far more dangerous than even the most colossal sundew. Their peculiar appearance makes them practically impossible to discern amidst other plants. By the time one draws close enough to realize what they are, it is often too late to flee. According to popular belief, archespores are cursed plants grown in soil fertilized by the blood of the dying. They are most often found in places which in the past saw pogroms, bloody rituals or cruel murders. Four types of archespore have been catalogued to date, differing from one another in terms of coloring: brown (the least dangerous), green and purple (the most dangerous). The final variant, said to have been cultivated by mages from Ban Ard, is the yellow archespore, whose strength is similar to that of its green-colored cousins.